


king, lover, hold me tight

by artsycat



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Broody Mikasa, F/M, Fake Marriage, Levi Ackerman's A+ Parenting, Post-Canon, Post-War, Romance, Slow Burn, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-08-29 13:44:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16745086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artsycat/pseuds/artsycat
Summary: (for without you, I am lost, so light)Mikasa, as one of the heroes that single-handedly ensured the victory of Eldia against Marley during the war, must now use her newfound status to marry Eren, judged as a traitor in the eyes of Eldia, in order to ensure his protection.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning before you start: there will be character deaths mentioned. I've been hesitant to use the major character death warning because no one is going to die in this fic, but character deaths will be mentioned. And when I say "Broody Mikasa" I mean that I'm not going to shy away from tapping into Mikasa angst especially with her dealing with the deaths of her friends and her general psyche after the war. I wanted to use the tag of "Dark Mikasa", but I don't truly think it's in Mikasa nature to be "dark". However, you will see her question a lot of her past decisions and her relationship with Eren in this fic isn't going to be an easy one.

[taken down for editing]


	2. Chapter 2

[taken down for editing]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you so much to those who commented on the last chapter, this chapter really wouldn't be possible without you all. I know there's a few concerns with Mikasa's character being, for lack of a better word, 'harsh', but please bear with me on this. You'll all find out why she is the way she is as the other chapters come along. 
> 
> And for those of you who have any questions as to why Eren so readily accepted the proposal - I'll give you a hint. Eren has more reason as to why he's agreeing with this arrangement. Mikasa being the person who he'll have this arrangement is one of them, but there's a lot more.
> 
> As always, please let me know your thoughts and comments. I am also, very desperately may I add, am looking for a beta reader because editing this fic while uni is going on is just really tough and is also one of the reasons as to why this chapter came out really late. Please let me know if your interested! I'd appreciate the help a ton. 
> 
> Anyways, please review! Your reviews mean a lot to me, and are also why I managed to keep on with this fic rather than delete and forget about it as I've done with countless of others lol. Anyways, till next time! :)


	3. Chapter 3

When Mikasa was a young girl, she imagined her wedding day to be grand. It would have been something out of a fairytale; everyone in town coming to wish her congratulations, flowers braided in her hair, with a bouquet of red roses held in her hands. She would be escorted to the altar on her father’s arms and her mother would watch her from the crowd, happy tears leaking from her eyes. Oh, and her dress. Her dress would be beautiful. Silk and elegantly designed. The train would be so long that it would take twenty men and women to unravel it from her carriage. But she wouldn’t care, she would have felt beautiful, felt like the most important person alive. And most importantly of all, she would have had her husband to stand by her through it all. They would declare their love for the world to see, and nobody could ruin their happy day. And they’d both love each other forever and ever, never going to bed angry or upset, and always telling the other how much they cared for them.

 

But that was just a child’s fancy. It does no good to hold onto such whimsical notions. It’s why Mikasa abandoned them so long ago.

 

Her uniform is new and fresh, ironed just right. She runs a comb through her short hair and wonders if she should do something about the purple crescent moons that lay right beneath her eyes. She decides upon using a paste, and smudges it right where her dark circles are, blending the paste with her fingers. She takes a deep breath and eyes herself carefully through the mirror. It’s… well, it’s the best she’s going to get with this.

 

Oddly enough, she thought she’d be at least a bit nervous today. It’s her wedding day, after all, no matter how sarcastically the thought passes through her head. It is her wedding day, but, it just feels like a normal day at work. There’ll just be a few extra people, a few extra things to be done, and the day will pass, just as many others have passed before. 

 

Hadn’t she thought of this day before, though? This day, this exact moment? In the years past, her husband had always taken Eren’s shape. It was Eren’s face she’d be swearing her vows to, Eren’s lips that she would be kissing, Eren’s hands that she would have held. It’s what she dreamed about… forever. Maybe… maybe three years ago, she’d have felt that way, maybe even a year ago, but now, she doesn’t know how she feels. Worst part is, she doesn’t know how Eren feels. She doesn’t know what he’s thinking, doesn’t know if he’s… apprehensive or angry or hurt. Doesn’t know if he’s resigned himself to the entire idea just as she herself did. Maybe, maybe not. She just doesn’t know. 

 

Sighing, Mikasa looks toward the clock. It’s almost time. Giving a once-over at her reflection, she heads straight to where everyone is waiting. The walk is fairly short, though she wishes it were a bit longer. She steps into the room, surprised to see that there’s hardly any people. It seems as though it was decided that only the most important can overlook this… ceremony. She expected there to be more, but perhaps this is easier. She can do this without having hundreds of  gazes bore into her, judge her, criticize her. She takes note of Historia early on, who gives her a small smile, and is dressed all in pastel blues and whites, a crown laid delicately upon her head. She tries to return the gesture, but she’s sure her smile comes out more like a grimace. Her eyes move from her to the front of the room, where a large desk stands with papers spread apart neatly. The marriage contract. Next to it stands Levi and Hanji, both seeming to be in a whisper contest, until Levi elbows Hanji to alert her about her arrival. Hanji gives her a smile, bright and reassuring, and Mikasa thinks it almost works until she turns her head and in her vision enters Eren.

 

He’s been dressed down in uniform, his face shaved and his hair tied back in a bun. He… he looks different in this light. Looks brighter, sharper. His eyes are a glittering green, so different from his usual sea-green. He’s watching her, not carefully, not anxiously, not resentfully. He just looks at her, and that’s enough to make her palms sweaty. Her throat has suddenly gone dry, and she hopes she doesn’t have to talk throughout the duration of this. 

 

It’s Commander Pixis, surprisingly, who goes ordaining the officialties of the marriage. He asks if both of them consent, to which Mikasa nods her head with a whispered ‘I do’ and Eren gives an audible ‘yes’. Papers are pushed towards them and a pen is shoved in her hand. Eren signs them first, sliding them to her, and Mikasa quickly prints her signature at the end of the contract, leaving an unfortunate ink blot by her name as she finishes. It’s a quick process. She never knew it could be this easy. But it’s done, and Mikasa is grateful, if anything, for the speed of the ordeal. With the contract and marriage certificates signed, it is official. She is now a married woman. Well, not really, but officially, she is.

 

Eren offers her his elbow, something he must have done more out of politeness than anything else. She takes it, her fingers resting on the crook of his arm, and they go to bow before Historia, who gives her blessings and congratulations.

 

After that, a silence settles. A very, very, awkward silence in which Mikasa can almost hear the gears turn in everyone’s head; whether they should clap and yell their congratulations, or stay silent and somber as they have. They all choose the latter, until Hanji slaps her on the back, mouth in the shape of a grin as she says, “Let’s start the feast, shall we?”

 

The mess hall had never looked so grand before. Bright lights are lit in every corner and the smell of bread and meat instantly invades her nose. She can almost feel her stomach rumble, and Mikasa thinks she could eat everything that’s set out in front upon the tables. Though, most likely she’ll vomit it back up, so she won’t do that lest she wishes to face embarrassment among so many high-profiled officers and citizens.

 

And there are truly many. It seems as though whatever guests were missing from the ceremony were found at the reception, and they all are smiling and laughing jovially, glasses of alcohol tinkering in their hands. Mikasa could do with one of those at the moment. They all congratulate her, men and women, faces ruddy with drink, and Mikasa tries to accept them as enthusiastically as she can. Eren hardly speaks, only smiling at those who dare to turn to him without hostility, and Mikasa is not unaware at the apprehensive looks that are thrown towards him. She is also neither unaware about the very cold, almost hateful look one officer of the Survey Corps gives him, and unconsciously tightens her fingers against his arm. Once she realizes what she’s doing, she pulls her hand away, as if burnt, and goes to sit by the table, Eren by her side.

 

She sighs at the faces of some people - some who look at Eren as though he is a monster, and some who look at her as though she betrayed them. It seems it will take more than a marriage to appease them, but what else can she do? There is only so much that Mikasa can make better about... well, about everything. She feels the anxiety coming and all of a sudden, everything seems so far away, until Levi pulls her to her feet for a dance.

 

“You seem like you’re about to throw up,” he says at first, eyeing her critically.

 

“I feel like I might,” Mikasa admits.

 

“Word of advice, don’t. Firstly, the cooks spent a good deal of time preparing all this food and it’d just be a waste. Secondly,” he hesitates, as if trying to find the right words, “you’re married. Act like it. I know it’s difficult, but you have a job to do.”

 

“I’m trying.”

 

“Try harder, because  _ this _ ? It’s not good enough. Look at your  _ joyful husband _ , at least he knows how to act. Not that he needs any advice for it.”

 

Mikasa tries to glare at him, but fails, almost withering away in his grasp. It’s true, Eren has been playing his part well, eating, drinking, acting normally. Meanwhile, she’s been… terrible. It’s mortifying, in a sense. Mikasa’s never acted as anything but the strong, level-headed commander she’s always portrayed herself to be, and to walk into another role in such short time, acting like a blushing bride - it’s not in her, not yet, and maybe not ever. 

 

“When will the feast be over?” She asks instead, ignoring the dark, looming thoughts inside her head.

 

“I guess when Historia leaves. It’ll be soon, hopefully.”

 

“And… Eren will be sleeping in my room?”

 

“Well, that’s the plan.”

 

Mikasa knows it’s a part of the plan - which is the only reason why she agreed to it in the first place. It had been Hanji’s idea in the first place, to ensure that they’re marriage, at least to the general public, seems like one of love rather than duty.

 

“Besides,” Hanji had said, “This will be the perfect way to keep an eye on him, especially if he plans on stabbing us in the back. Leaving him alone for the night - might as well put him back in his prison cell then.”

 

So she agreed then, for there was little else to add to an argument rather than her own personal comfort? In retrospect, she could have argued more. Could have yelled and raged and say no, but… what would that accomplish? All her life she’s tried to do the right thing. Even when it was at the cost of her comrades, of her loved ones, of her friends. Sharing a room is nothing. She’s done that with him before.

 

_ But times were different then, _ that same voice hidden away inside of her says. _ You thought you knew him. And now you don’t. _ And she doesn’t. Mikasa will admit that she doesn’t know him, doesn’t understand who the person is that Eren has become. And maybe she never did. 

 

But then she remembers fond childhood memories, basked with warmth, giggles and smiles, and she wishes, wishes beyond anything that at least that was real.

 

Historia leaves, giving her a reassuring smile and one to Eren as well, though it looks a bit wary. Some of the guests follow behind her, but some others stay, biding their time with dances and conversations. Levi kicks her from under the table and Mikasa gets the hint, moving to stand up with Eren closely following her and leaving from the hall with little to no fanfare. 

 

The journey to her room is filled with nothing but an awkward silence. She keeps darting side glances at him in the dark, and finds herself without the courage to say anything. She almost finds it a relief when they reach her rooms, and she thinks she could collapse and sleep soundly for the first time in a long time, if not for the obvious fact that Eren was here. 

 

She opens the room to her door and realizes one big mistake. There’s only one bed. 

 

_ Fuck _ , Mikasa thinks,  _ fuck _ . 

 

Eren must obviously sense her discomfort for it must show clearly on her face. He almost reaches out to her, as if trying to offer her some sort of warped comfort, but hesitates. Instead he offers to sleep on the floor.

 

“The prison bed feels no different,” he says with a wry smile, as if he were saying some kind of joke. But Mikasa feels no laughter nor humour, instead it’s pity. Pity and… something else that she can’t quite name. And maybe that’s why she says what she says, maybe that’s why she does what she does, because above all, Mikasa has never wanted to be intentionally maliceful, intentionally cruel. She has been careless, she has felt hate and anger and apathy and all the emotions that she’s sure anyone in her position might feel, but never inherent cruelty. Never innate meanness.

 

And maybe she just feels bad for him. This boy she once knew with green eyes that glittered in the sunlight, unlike the dark and dim ones he holds now.

 

“No,” she says, startling both him and herself. Clearing her throat, she continues, “No, you don’t have to… there’s a mattress, I think. A spare one just a few rooms from here. Just wait.”

 

And she’s gone before he can say anything, and when Mikasa reaches the other room, she grips onto the bed post of where the mattress lies and takes deep breaths. Once she gathers herself, she picks the mattress up and heralds it to her own room, setting it down with a thud. 

 

“Here,” she says, pushing a blanket and a pillow into his hands. He stares at the proffered items for a moment before looking at her.

 

“Thank you,” and his voice is so earnest, so sincere that it makes her uncomfortable. All she can do is nod her head and look away, and wishes the ground to swallow her whole. 

 

They get ready to sleep, and Mikasa uses the bathroom to change, and when she gets out Eren is already fast asleep, snoring slightly on his makeshift bed. She stares at him for a moment, and wonders how it all went so wrong. Then, she turns the light off and tries to rest.

 

She stays awake the entire night.

 

\---

 

Eren wakes up as she’s getting ready, and rubs the sleep out of his eyes. He’s woken up later than she would’ve liked, but she assumed that it was the first time he’s gotten to sleep somewhere comfortable. She almost envies him, wishing that she could also sleep as he does; with no care in the world. 

 

“You’ll be spending the day with me,” she says, deciding to cut to the chase and rubs paste underneath her eyes once again. “You’ll be working as a secretary of sorts - unless you wish for a different position?”

 

“No,” Eren says, and she can see through the mirror how he’s struggling to hide his surprise. “I’m fine with that.”

 

“Good,” she says, turning to face him. “My last secretary went on leave a month ago, so there’s quite a bit of paperwork piled up. I’ve tried my best to get it all organized myself, but… well, anyways. I’m sure you can handle it.”

 

“I can,” he says, sounding slightly offended. “It’s just paperwork.”

 

She side-eyes him, but decides to say nothing. They leave once he’s ready, making their way down to her office and shows him his own desk. She explains the basics of what he needs to do - look over documents, see if they need signing, send out any letters and create copies of whatever that she’s deemed important. He looks determined as she speaks out to him, and something about it brings about an emotion she has felt too much and yet not enough: nostalgia. She doesn’t know how she feels about that.

 

Because along with the nostalgia comes the memories, memories of trainee days and the smell of the forest and sweat glistening on skin. Adrenaline and laughter and smiles. Her and Armin. Her and Eren. Armin.

 

She misses Armin, she thinks, most of all. Perhaps more than Sasha even, though the thought fills her up with unbearable guilt. Lives were lives, weren’t they? It doesn’t matter how long you’ve known a person for or how much you’ve loved them, once they die that type of pettiness ceases to matter. Maybe she just hasn’t thought about Armin because of his death. Because of how his death was the last straw. The straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak. She’s replayed Sasha’s death in her head over and over again until the pain became numb and remembering became routine. Armin’s she blocked out completely, like a piece of bad news she wasn’t willing to acknowledge. And with Eren right here, right in front of her, she can feel the rage bubble up again, and she thinks, not for the first time,  _ how could you do this? _

 

How could he. And Mikasa isn’t saying that metaphorically, but rather literally. Meaning  _ how could you did what you did, how could you stomach it, how did you plan it out? _ For years she thought him wild and untameable and she has never been so wrong. Eren had discipline. And when you have discipline you can do anything. Mikasa knows that. She’s been dutifully disciplined her entire life. If you had to ask, she’s the type of person who has her entire schedule planned out from the first day of the year to the end. Appointments, meetings, conferences, tours, younameit. Seems as though she isn’t the only person with such a skill. Eren has been far more disciplined - and far more secretive - than she could ever hope to be. 

 

Armin’s death was a necessity in Eren’s mind for a long time. She hesitates to think of when he planned for it. 

 

But he’d dead and Eren isn’t and she could be angry at him, could be angry at him for what he’s done, could hate him, let him know she hates him, but his voice comes to her, sorrowful and sincere in the cell where he’s fought for his life, and he says,  _ “I’m sorry.” _

 

Yeah. She’s sorry too. 

 

He takes to the role of secretary well enough. Performs his tasks, organizes files, does it all well and good and he doesn’t really give her any reason or cause to complain. Their interactions are… cordial enough, always respectful and cool. But the tension lies underneath it all. A moment of lapsed judgement, of a harsher tone, and it will all come unspooling out and she shudders to think of what will happen when it does. 

 

But it doesn’t happen.

 

The days pass. Slowly but surely. She is almost getting used to his presence in her room, after so long not being by his side. By anyone’s side for that matter. And the work they’re doing is actually starting to mean something. Reconstruction is halfway through being finished in some of the major cities that were held down by sieges and warfare and the economy is building itself back up. She goes to sleep at night and wakes up in the mornings without the burdens of the past weighing down on her. Day in, day out. One breath at a time. One step at a time. 

 

And then, one morning, Eren asks her, “You sent Yelena on the search for Zeke?”

 

She pauses, wondering where this has come from, but replies, “I did.”

 

He levels a stare at her and says, “Why?”

 

“Because I deemed her loyal enough to perform this task. If there’s anyone who has even an inkling of Zeke’s whereabouts, then it’s her.”

 

“ _ Loyal enough? _ ” Eren says, his voice dripping with malice. “She’s a traitor of the highest kind. If I were you - “

 

“Yes, but you’re not me.” She interrupts, almost savagely. “And if I were to order everyone who’s betrayed us to be put to death, well, then there would be too many to go through. I’ve just cleaned this country of its corpses, I have no wishes to see any more.”

 

“That’s not the point! I am telling you that you can’t trust her. Order her back from wherever she is. She’s not gone to find Zeke for any of you, she’s gone to find Zeke for  _ herself _ .”

 

“She’s proven herself - “

 

Eren slams his hands on her desk, hard enough to make it rattle. “ _ She’s a liar! _ ”

 

The silence is deafening.

 

“And if she’s a liar, Eren,” Mikasa starts off quietly. “Then what does that make you?”

 

He stares at her for a moment, but it feels like a lifetime. Then, he laughs. It’s a quiet thing at first, starting off with giggles and then bubbling into full-blown laughter. He doesn’t stop, and Mikasa feels queasy, as though this wasn’t the reaction she was hoping for. 

 

“Well,” Eren says, wiping a tear from his eye, and then smiles at her, razor sharp. “Guess that makes me a liar then too, don’t it? And guess what Mikasa. Only liars know when others are lying. So, as a liar of the highest fashion, I implore you oh merciful Captain Commander, to  _ heed my advice _ and order Yelena’s return.”

 

“I don’t take advice from my secretaries.” Mikasa says through gritted teeth. “Get out before I throw you out. Now.”

 

Eren leaves then, slamming the door on his way, and Mikasa takes a deep breath before taking a hold of the nearest vase and slamming it against the wall into a million pieces. All of a sudden her office feels stuffy and she wants for nothing more than to leave this building and run for miles on end until there’s nothing in her path but the lush green of the forest. But she can’t. The faction reports are due by the end of the day and she can’t put them off when she’s promised to hand them in.

 

So she breathes. Replays Sasha’s death in her mind a few times before she goes entirely numb, picks herself up from the floor and makes her way to her desk. Pen in hand, she continues on, until the words begin to blur and something wet slips down her cheeks.

 

_ I’m crying, _ she thinks, idly touching the outer corners of her eye.  _ I haven’t cried in a long time. _

 

Mikasa decides she’ll spend the night in the office. When she falls asleep at her desk she tells herself it has nothing to do with her conversation with Eren. But she’s long since learned that what she says doesn’t mean anything, really, and goes to sleep with a lie in her head, knowing in the morning that she’ll wake up with a story on her tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I would like to apologize to all of you who have been waiting, I really am the worst when it comes to deadlines and updates :( but I hope you're all not too mad at me! And secondly, I just wanted to thank @ Kaekiro for being an amazingly awesome beta, this chapter would not at all have been possible without her and her feedback. Thank you for guiding me in the right way and also for being extremely patient with me, I appreciate that more than you know. If any of you have the time, please check out Sel's fics, they are. so good. She's a far better writer than I could ever hope to be and is my inspiration in many different ways. Thank you Sel <3


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